Sam

Mental retardedness  encompasses intellectual wit with the mental tenacity to face up to reality. While the world degrades you as idiot or retarded by a mere glance of your report card, to me, without the ability to handle truths and rising up to them, that is when you are most retarded.

And there are instances, where I am retarded. Where you, are retarded as well.

To me, Sam, is a genius.

 

Windows Mobile,
Makes all phones look vile.

Sigh.

So Many Thousands of Feets off the Ground

If everything had a purpose.
Then my life has a purpose. Well that’s no wonder. Yet then again, my death must have a purpose. That the ultimate designer is playing ikea* for a simple passing on to be significant.

*products from ikea are constructed to last a period of time before they self-destruct or “collapse due to wear ad tear”. This promotes users to return to ikea. Attractive products causes consumers to constantly return while compromising on quality.

Distant Worlds

Familiar spotted sheets..cluttered shelves and large covers. It felt as though I were back there.

In response to the familiar scene, my body took charge of it’s reflexive actions, curbing the influx of throb. And not only that, it got myself ready for what we did.

Yet, in this distinct parallel of situations, my mind was of utmost clarity in reality. Fixating on the present and now.

Irony, of an Irony

The New Paper criticises Ris Low’s claims to be spokesperson for Speak Good English Movement.

I’m so bananas I’m showin up to your open casket
to fill it full of explosive gasses
and close it back with a lit match in it
while I sit back and just hope it catches
Blow you to fragments
Laugh roll you and smoke the ashes

Common Scrawls

Glancing through the ink stained pages, having mere split seconds to register maximum information to capture the gist of the whole and thus responding to it. Sweat filled my palms and the temperatures dipped as sophisticated diagrams was endowed. I wondered, if this, was really a math paper. It could’ve passed of as an art paper.

Placing back the cover aligning the paper back to it’s origin, my mind swirled with massive thoughts. The table cluttered with stationary and sheets of paper, the small desk seem inadequate for it’s purpose. However, the clock still ticked while random thoughts-both ridiculous and insightful filled. It began, finally.

Scawling the same old scribbles that spelled my name, it seems that my fingers have also turned disobedient to my call. Numb from the cold, sourced from both nervousness and the air condtioner.

Each question, attempted with such cautiousness, I didn’t want any ridiculous mistakes. Gobbling down liquid that suspressed the uneasiness. With each question, I laboured, with one common thought.

I prayed, for every page that I turned. The boring old ang mohs have finally realised repetiveness is annoying yet their realization was at our cost.

Yet this time, as always, I entered in to the same common hall, yet with different mindset from the past four years. Nope, it wasn’t, “this is it, it boils down to this”; I had always thought that way for every exam. But it was unexplained.

Each question, I attempted, hoping so much that I had the power to inform you of my findings. Each question I prayed not that I would be able to overcome it, but prayed that you would. This strange, hope, was fuel, and I’m uncertain about the details yet I’m certain that it is a fire, worth keeping.

Do your best(:

Falling for a Chance.

This is who I really am.

Power

The overly embraced “with great power came great responsibility” had not been embedded within the fibers.

Looking at the faces people who felt awkward wearing their school uniform again and putting it on later than usual. Behind those looks of unfamiliarity there were those that had words written on their faces, “all the best for English”. Even though they weren’t wearing the same yellow and blue, each of us had common ideals and goals.

The composition was hard to gauge, I’m aren’t certain that I would be able to evoke emotions from the writer by writing through the perspective of a weak boy who is unable to stand on his feet after his parents passed on.

The format for the situational writing was hilarious. While I tried to persuade people that the format as fluid and indefinite, people banged on the format as if it would have made much difference. It was the way of expressing thoughts which was crucial. Especially for this paper whereby the formatt was completely new. The actual format according to my teacher was that it shouldn’t have any address. Basically, similar to that of informal yet presenting in a mature tone while including certain terms which hinted informality.

And well, I told you sleep was important..to the extent that it had been reinforced by sermon and our favourite Cambridge examiners. I had little confidence in my summary writing and my q and a is often messed up.

But I guess nothing could have been done better.

You’re my heroine

Frustration had been cut down, though it had always made a come back, I’ve never understood why. Everyone had given up terminating its existence. Realizing that even pulling it off had only proven futile, decisions to leave it alone had been cast. It had grown, by what I do not know, recall or even acknowledge, until I couldn’t see the top and it started obstructing pathways.

Today, it had been reduced to withers and tistles. Under the mercy of the Master, it had shy away from its bearer. Yet to view at it’s patheticness had evoked sympathy that it did not deserve. Fluttering beauty around the previous green, now yellow, it was ironic yet vastly similar. In ways more than one, had been a reflection.

Crumbling under it’s own weight, breathing harder to breathe. It seems that it is taking its revenge on me. Yet this time, it felt nice, and happy. With its twin core, it had proven lethal but at what cause.

“Mammals have fur!”
Helps laugh shit off.

Nobody asked for life to deal us
With these bullshit hands we’re dealt
We gotta take these cards ourselves
And flip ‘em, don’t expect no help

Love, selfishly selfless?

Remembering Sunday.

Are there things you cant fake?

Today, I have come to the realization that it is possible to fake anything and everything. It feels weird knowing this.

Power Dose

Hadn’t I had it right? Every inch of my soul crumbles at your presence. Conscience of right and wrong merely fades away. Like daggers flung around, always, yet only I were the one seemingly disembered by them. I understood it, I regarded it as equals. They were friends rather than foes, it gripped me harder and any physical pull. I was about to get up.

These had had both good and evil in them. Like a sculpture carved into different facets of extreme. The beauty is undeniable yet the anguish, a polar opposite had been etched into the same. These were merely fantasies, pure hopeful imaginations yet I believe so strongly in them that my senses have been distorted. I have walked out of this alive, it is to keep myself alive that is essential.

A familiar gush flowed through. It felt like the first time we did it. Yet this time, it was different. Shaking in the weight of it’s effects, they deserved it. Yet who was I to deliver justice? With all fury, a lock down of their physiques had been achieved, I was ready to give it all I got. But wait, I lifted Orange, laughed and walked.

This had been such a familiar exposure, yet it had grown into a different form to cope with that current situation. This made me feel ready, to execute my plans. Of which, now I’m glad I had not followed such eager promptings. All that, charged up into my palms had been redirected inwards, morphing into a different form, making it, satisfactory.